


Consequences

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Series: Undead Chosen One [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Still Can't Remember Padme, Anakin is Decomposing a Bit, Ending Includes Hope, F/M, Gen, Mentions of Past Child Soldiers, Reconciliation, Some angst, Undead Anakin, Unhealed Burns, Vampire Anakin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 08:53:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15882726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: In the wake of Satine's nature reasserting herself, she faces reactions on a grand scale. While Anakin has been undead all along, the decomposition implied in that hasn't been visible... but the burns Satine gave him make it much more evident. Satine struggles with who she is compared to who she wants to be, Obi-Wan still feels a desperate need to stay close to his vampire, and a Dream Qui-Gon tries to shake Obi-Wan out of his bite-induced lethargy.





	Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Two years ago today I posted for the first time here on Archive of our Own. That first story was [Emergency Feeding](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7945060), and since this is both September 3rd once more, and my 200th posted work, I have a continuation of the Undead Chosen One series. It felt symmetrical and celebratory. <3

 

“You cannot be serious,” Palpatine protested. “My dear boy, just look at yourself in a mirror, and—”

“I'm not doing it, Chancellor. I'm sorry you disapprove.”

“Master Kenobi,  _ please  _ speak some sense into him,” Palpatine pleaded, turning to the shorter Jedi.

Obi-Wan had a look of quiet misery on his face, but he roused enough to say, “It is Anakin's decision to make, not mine.”

“She  _ attacked  _ you with no provocation,” Palpatine pointed out. “There are witnesses willing to testify, there is  _ security  _ footage, you would  _ win this case _ , Anakin! You're not healing, you may have to live with...  _ this...  _ the rest of your life, and she is clearly a hypocrite—”

Beside him, Obi-Wan winced. Anakin felt it almost as much as he saw it.

“—and she deserves to spend a long time in a cell for what she did to you.”

“As I said,” Anakin repeated, “I am not going to press charges, your Excellency.”

“ _ Why _ ? I know Master Kenobi is  _ fond  _ of her, but to deny you the right of—”

Anakin scowled. “Obi-Wan hasn't said a  _ word  _ on the matter—”

“But you don't want to damage your relationship with him by prosecuting his  _ friend. _ It seems to me, Master Jedi, that a woman who claims to believe in nonviolence to the point of rudeness who can still perpetrate an atrocity like this needs to have her duplicity exposed.”

Obi-Wan was gritting his teeth.

Anakin shook his head. “Chancellor, she's a good woman, and she believes her creed.”  
“It seems to me that if she could do this to an ally while her friend is begging her to  _ stop,  _ she might be capable of other terrible things.”

“ _ All  _ of us are capable of terrible things,” Anakin interjected. “She was trying to protect the senators still present, trying to protect Obi-Wan, she was afraid for her own life. There was a misunderstanding. There are no hard feelings.”

“She didn't look particularly  _ frightened  _ to me.”

Anakin felt Obi-Wan's heart sink.

_ She is afraid,  _ Anakin now knew,  _ but not of monsters. _

_Of herself._

“Chancellor, I appreciate your concern for my well being, but this is a decision I have to make myself, and I have made it.”

Palpatine gave a tight nod, clearly unhappy. “I hope you know what you're doing.”  
The two Jedi bowed and showed themselves out. As the door closed, Anakin spoke up.

“Obi-Wan, I'll find and destroy that recording.”  
Obi-Wan's shoulders sagged. “I'm not sure it matters, Anakin. Too many politicians know of its existence.”  
“But if there's no proof—”

“Politics doesn't revolve around proof,” Obi-Wan explained, sounding lifeless. “It has to do with public opinion. All one of her enemies would need to do is drop a couple of suggestions near one of the news agencies, they send in a reporter to ask questions of Satine... the article is written to draw the most attention. Even if you did destroy the recording, her political career is...” Obi-Wan's voice trailed off.

Anakin sighed, catching sight of open stares as they passed people in the public areas. He tried to draw his hood more closely around his face, but knew that the sight of decayed flesh wasn't likely to be politely ignored any time soon.

And the  _ smell... _

He hated it, the stench in his own nostrils. He wasn't sure how Obi-Wan managed to act as if it didn't exist. He hadn't once let on that he noticed.

“Anakin, there is something I need to do while I'm here. You can go on back to the Temple.”

Anakin frowned. “Satine is there. What could you possibly do here?”

“There is someone I need to speak to.”

“Who?”  
Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment, pain in his eyes. “The woman you can't remember.”  
“Can I come with you? Maybe if—”

“I'm not so sure that's a good idea this time,” Obi-Wan murmured. “And besides. The physicians the Chancellor brought in are waiting for you.”  
“They won't find a way to fix it. You  _ know  _ that. There is no healing for this.”  
Obi-Wan winced. “I know.”  
“Hey.” Anakin placed a hand on his shoulder, scared by how small and vulnerable Obi-Wan looked. “It's okay. She could have killed me, but she  _ didn't.  _ That's what counts. She listened to you, Obi-Wan.”

“This may break her,” Obi-Wan whispered. “And I can't— if  _ she  _ breaks, I don't think I can—”

Anakin pulled him into a gentle hug, ignoring the slight pain it caused him because of the burns that wouldn't heal. “We'll figure out what to do next.”  
“Next I need to speak to another politician, and then I can go home.”

“Alright.” Anakin nodded with a sigh. “I'll see you later, then.”

“Thank you, Anakin.”

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

“Is it Anakin?”

Obi-Wan had barely stepped inside her office before Padmé assailed him with questions.

“Can he remember anything? What did the memory specialists say—?”

“None of them hold out hope for those memories' return. Jedi, droid, civilian, military— they're all saying the same things.”

Padmé froze, everything about her drooping.

“I'm sorry, but there's more.” Obi-Wan blinked hard against tears that wanted to fall. “He's been injured.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“As we were escorting the Duchess of Mandalore to Coruscant, there was an attack. In the confusion of battle, she... attacked the wrong target. Anakin bears wounds that, while not life-threatening, do look rather... grim.”

“How long will it take him to recover?” Padmé asked, voice hushed. “And the  _ Duchess  _ attacked him?”  
“We don't know. Experts are trying to figure something out.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “As for Satine... she...”

“It was  _ clearly  _ an accident,” Padmé asserted. “I  _ know  _ her, and she's a dedicated pacifist.”

“Yes. But it wasn't an accident. She's sorry, Anakin doesn't hold it against her, but we expect this to turn very ugly very soon.”

Padmé's expression darkened. “She has many enemies in the Senate. They all— even the Chancellor— want a militarized Mandalore to return and fight for them.”

“It's certainly a tempting image.”

“You think this may undermine her credibility?”

“Badly.”  
“Who knows about it?”  
“Kin Robb and Orn Free Taa were present. Apparently there's a recording too. By now, I imagine the number of people who know has—”

“Experienced an exponential increase,” Padmé sighed. “Can the video be seized by the military for vague security reasons?”  
Obi-Wan's eyes widened. “I hadn't thought of that.”  
“Are you alright?” Padmé asked, suspicious now. “It's not like you to miss something like that.”

“No, I'm in terrible shape.” Obi-Wan found himself sinking into a chair even as she locked the door. “My brother is suffering and there is nothing I can do, he's forgotten his love, and I can't fix it,  _ my  _ love could lose everything she's sacrificed so much to build—”

Padmé's in-drawn breath didn't escape him, but he chose to ignore it. He  _ had  _ to ignore it. If he didn't, everything was going to come apart and he would weep, right here.  _ No. Not now. _

“—My mind won't work. I have no confidence left. I cannot seem to operate on my own. He's decided to try to break that artificial dependence by refusing to take blood from me and I have  _ jitters,  _ Padmé, I feel like I'm trying to survive withdrawal. If I'm away from his side for over half an hour I start feeling like a panic attack might hit. Ahsoka still refuses to communicate about what's going on with her and I'm worried the new feeding arrangements aren't good for the clones' mental or emotional health, and I really  _ just miss Qui-Gon. _ ”

Padmé's shock had fled, turning into deep compassion. She dragged her chair around the desk so she could sit close, facing him. “And the war?”  
He huffed a near-crazed laugh. “And the war. It's all coming apart, Padmé, everything is sliding between my fingers and I can't seem to stop  _ any  _ of it.”

“We will help Satine. I promise you, Obi-Wan.”  
He forced himself to meet her gaze. “I'm not sure you can.”  
“Her people love her. It's surprising what people would be willing to overlook.”

“I'm afraid for her,” Obi-Wan whispered. “She— I'm afraid she will drown.”  
“In what? The political fallout?”  
An almost smile tugged at his lip, knowing  _ that  _ would never be the problem, and then it was gone.

“No.”  
Padmé didn't press him when it became clear he wasn't going to say more. She simply patted his cold hand.

 

* * *

 

Yoda felt the terrible anguish that awaited in his tea room.

It wasn't his first indication that the Duchess was there, waiting for him, but it was certainly the loudest.

He found her kneeling on the floor, head bowed, hands on the floor by her sides, palms up.

“Help me, Master,” Satine whispered. “I don't want to go back.”

Compassion and sorrow filled the old heart as Yoda moved to press a small hand to the side of her head. “Hope, there is.”

“Is there?  _ Really _ ? Because it's like a tingle in my fingers. I want to go down to the lower levels, hunt, find some rapist and  _ slaughter  _ them. I want to feel their blood on my hands. I  _ need it,  _ Master.”

Yoda leaned his forehead against hers. “Know, I do.”

He could sense the tears slipping down her nose, scalding and bitter.

“Is there a Murderers Anonymous I could go to?” she asked, dark humor attempting to alleviate some of the agony in the room.

It worked for neither of them.

“Get clean before you did. Again, you  _ can. _ ”

“I don't know, Master. I'm not sure I  _ want  _ to, anymore. I've  _ missed this so much. _ ”

“Decide, you must, who you wish to be. Resign, you could.”

“Resign and fall into obscurity so I can murder those I deem  _ vile  _ enough? Ones I could be  _ justified  _ in torturing and killing? Succumb to my  _ programming _ ?”

“Vehement you are.” Yoda pulled back and patted one of her hands before sitting in front of her with a quiet groan. “Perhaps care you still do, hmm? Or so vehement you might not be?”

 

* * *

 

Anakin lay in ambush near the hall he was ninety-seven percent sure Obi-Wan would use to escape to his room.

Sure enough, there scurried his former master, eyes swollen, nose red, cloak wrapped tight around him as if trying to hide from his misery.

Anakin simply fell in step beside him.

Obi-Wan startled, then sighed and edged closer to him as they walked.

They didn't speak until the door to Obi-Wan's room was shut and Anakin backed Obi-Wan up to the bed and pressed on his shoulder so he would sit.

Obi-Wan sagged to the side until he half-lay on the bed, feet awkwardly still near the floor.

Anakin shook his head, picking up his former master's feet and dragging them over to rest on the bed.

“So tired,” Obi-Wan mumbled.

Anakin leaned over him fingertips ghosting over Obi-Wan's forehead, once again amazed by the softness of  _ skin.  _ “Then sleep.”

“It's not anywhere near dawn yet.”

“That's okay.” Anakin crawled over him to curl up between Obi-Wan and the wall, ignoring the  _ oomph  _ Obi-Wan made.

Obi-Wan sent him an unconvinced  _ look.  _

“What? It's more comfortable for watching you.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

Anakin tried to keep his hands to himself. He really did. But when Obi-Wan closed his eyes, he looked so  _ dead... _

The vampire's arms snapped up to pull Obi-Wan close.

Obi-Wan groaned in protest, squinting one eye open to glare.

“Sorry,” Anakin offered, but it didn't sound particularly genuine. Instead, he tucked his face against the side of Obi-Wan's head so he could hear the rushing of blood in Obi-Wan's veins. “I need to feel you're alive.”

A hand patted his guarding arm, and then Obi-Wan relaxed, determined to sleep in spite of  _ any  _ obstacles.

That's where Ahsoka was going to find them later, curled like a couple of exhausted tooka kittens, one reading his datapad since he couldn't escape the stone embrace of the other, Anakin's eyes still open despite his hibernation.

But before that, Obi-Wan dreamed.

 

/ / /

 

“Obi-Wan. My dear, enduring Padawan.”

Obi-Wan peered around the strangely fuzzy Room of a Thousand Fountains.

“It's alright to rest.”

“The war. Anakin. Ahsoka. Slave army. Sith at the head of a new takeover attempt. There really,  _ really  _ isn't time.”

Arms wrapped around him, warm and strong. He ducked his head, realizing Qui-Gon stood behind him. “Even if you joined me today, it wouldn't be the end for them,” Qui-Gon murmured. “They would find a way to live, a way to carry on.”

“But—”

“No, my child. They  _ would. _ So rest, so they don't have to.”

“I'm needed.”

“That used to make you feel valued. Now you feel burdened. There are different kinds of needs, Obi-Wan. You make a difference, and there are those who love you. In that sense, yes, you are needed. Will the universe come to pieces and the end of times hit because Obi-Wan Kenobi took a nap... took a year-long sabbatical... died? No.”

“Anakin—”

“Even Anakin would survive,” his master whispered in his ear, long hair tickling the back of Obi-Wan's neck. “You carry the weight of the world, but only  _ you  _ put it there.”

Obi-Wan squirmed so he could wrap his arms around the man he missed so much. “I'm so done.”

“I know, dear one. It is going to take a fight to overcome the dependence you've gained.”

Obi-Wan pulled away, his heart going cold. “It's not worth the effort.” He couldn't look at Qui-Gon. Instead, he sank onto the bench placed conveniently beneath his ass. Dreams were nice that way. “I can't fight the war, fight to save Satine, fight to save Anakin,  _ and  _ fight to save me. I just don't have that much  _ in  _ me, Master.”

“That is why you're going to have to do something drastic, Padawan mine.”

Obi-Wan felt fear hit. “Don't.”

“Obi-Wan, you need to take time away.”

“Don't you  _ dare. _ ”

“You need to go deep into Draboon's countryside and take refuge in the cottage.”

“ _ No. _ ”

“Satine needs to take a break from the politics she's been trapped in for the last twelve years, and you need time away from Anakin, the Order, and the war.”

“How  _ dare  _ you?” Obi-Wan snapped, gaze finally flicking up to find Qui-Gon's eyes, crinkled in concern. “You  _ left  _ me. You have  _ no right  _ to take what  _ little I have left  _ away from me!”

“You can have it all back, Obi-Wan. I'm not asking you to leave  _ forever.  _ Just for a time.”

“ _ Why  _ would I want the silence?”

“Because you haven't  _ had  _ silence for the last twelve years. Because you have wounds you can't even see that  _ need to heal. _ ”

“ _ Frip you,  _ you wretched,  _ controlling  _ man. I do not have to obey you anymore!”

 

/ / /

 

Yoda was with her when Satine received the news.

She could read Aramis's fury in his controlled voice.

Couldn't hide the shock from her face.

She stared dazedly at the Jedi Master once the holo fell silent, not needing to wonder how they'd gotten here since she  _ knew,  _ oh, she  _ knew. _

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan felt miserable when he woke up and discovered himself trapped. He called a datapad to him with the Force to try to bury himself in the war effort, but...

_ No. I won't abandon the clones until this is over. I won't leave Anakin to fight a war alone. I won't, Qui-Gon. I won't. _

His mind refused to cooperate, going over the same paragraph three times before Obi-Wan realized he'd absorbed not a word of it.

At first he thought Ahsoka's arrival to be a welcome distraction.

_ Until  _ she mentioned Satine really,  _ really  _ needed to talk to him.

_ But can't it wait _ and  _ couldn't we speak by comlink so she doesn't see—  _ were both met with an earnest  _ no,  _ and Ahsoka left to go bring Satine  _ here. _

Obi-Wan found he resented the stone arm pinning him to the bed. Could he use a lightsaber, carve his way out of his semi-comfortable prison? Wreck the bed,  _ yes,  _ but at least—

Ahsoka did not accompany Satine when the Duchess entered.

Instead, the Padawan closed the door and left them.

Obi-Wan stared up at her, dreading whatever she might say...

And then he caught sight of her face. “What's wrong?”

“I've been banished.”

“What? There's been no trial, that's  _ illegal— _ ”

She smiled, the expression mirthless. “There's a loophole. Time of crisis, a unanimous decision by the governing authorities that their leader is placing our civilization in jeopardy. It's only good for a specific period of time, but they've  _ done  _ it. I cannot return to Manda'yaim until the war is over. And until then, Korkie is in charge, with Almec as his Regent since he is still a year underage.”

“Can you not appeal?” Obi-Wan demanded.

She looked down. “Should I?”

“Of  _ course,  _ you've fought so  _ hard  _ for this position—”

“It's never been  _ about  _ being in charge, Obi-Wan.” Tears filled Satine's eyes. “You were  _ right,  _ back on the ship from Concordia. If I can't figure out my own head, what good am I to my people? I have to save myself before I can save anyone else.” She chuckled, the sound grim. “And in an odd way, I am proud of them. I wanted Mandalore to stand on her own feet. She's taken steps to ensure someone— who has been confirmed as killing a Mandalorian, and attacking a Jedi and thereby threatening the peace— cannot drag them into a war.”

Obi-Wan felt his heart break for her. “What are you going to do?”

“I'm going to find someplace quiet where I can sort through all of this. Probably in a wilderness, where killing people won't be an easy option.”

“Draboon?” Obi-Wan asked, his heart sinking.

She nodded. “I'm thinking of the cabin.”

He groaned.

“What is it? Do you think it's the wrong place? Yes, the last time I reinvented myself there, it fell apart when I got home, but Obi, the  _ wasteland— _ ”

“It's not that. I had a dream,” he admitted. “I saw Qui-Gon. He spoke as if I should take time away. Find  _ silence.  _ At the cabin. And he spoke as if you would be there too. It was easier to dismiss as a crazy dream before you said you're going there.”

Satine planted her hands on her hips. “Obi-Wan, your premonitions aren't given to you to just pick and choose which sound good.”

“I cannot just  _ drop everything  _ and  _ go! _ ”

“I thought so as well. But there is an opening, and I have to take it. Obi-Wan, your citadel is crumbling just as much as mine.”

“We would end up killing ourselves to escape each other,” he griped. “You've been very solicitous since Anakin... but you don't  _ like  _ my company anymore. If we need to figure things out, the  _ last  _ place to do that is with each other.”

He was unprepared for the way her eyes softened, the way she glanced away to retain control—

_ Did I just hurt her? _

“Satine,” he murmured.

She looked up at the ceiling. “No, you're right. We're not very compatible. We've been fighting like akks and tookas for over a year.”

“Well... it wouldn't be the  _ first  _ time we fought like hell for a year.”

His words startled her into a gentle smirk. “I was terrible.”

“And I was an idiot.”

She sighed, and the sadness was definite in her face now.

“Satine, whether you return as Duchess or not, however this goes, I have perfect faith in you.” He needed to say it. Now. Before he said something else stupid and they started fighting again.  _ If I never see her again, I need to have said this.  _ “You have helped your people, in so many ways. It's up to them to keep it going, but you have kept your promise to them.”

Her face twisted. “But what if I was wrong, Obi?”

“All of us are, at some time or another.”

“I  _ believe  _ it, Obi-Wan. Whenever I close my eyes, I see how Mandalore  _ used  _ to be. I can  _ smell  _ the trees, feel the grass under my toes. Remember what it felt like to plant in the spring and harvest in the fall and hunt in the winter. And now it's radiation-blasted  _ desert,  _ nearly every species of plant and animal  _ gone,  _ like they never existed, we can't even walk the surface in safety—”

“I remember,” he whispered.

Remembered cresting the hill, staring out at what had once been alive and now was  _ dead. _

Remembered watching Satine fall to her knees.

She didn't cry out. She didn't scream.

She knelt there in silence.

Obi-Wan had wanted to kneel with her, but Qui-Gon had held him back.

It was later that night when he heard screaming. Ignoring Qui-Gon's murmurs, he'd escaped their camp to search for the throne's claimant.

Found her cursing the stars.

He'd held her as she raged, not a tear to be seen.

“You can always come up with a  _ good reason  _ for violence. They started it. Need to protect what's ours. We take our honor and names seriously, they insulted us. They injured us in some way and we need to take something back. The war for the throne was clan on clan, and it was a  _ reasonable  _ fight. They believed that for one of the others to end up Mand'alor would lead to disaster.” Satine shook her head. “Fighting only when there is justification... but what is justification? And what is required to justify wiping out our own  _ home _ ?  _ Most of our population,  _ priceless places of historical significance? Keldabi,  _ wiped off the map _ ? Our farms  _ gone _ ?  _ Violence  _ did this. Because my people could not  _ stand  _ to allow a ruler to be selected by vote.”

Instead of taking offense, Obi-Wan tried to hear her. To listen. He could hear the thread of agony in her voice, and as she spoke he could see the aftermath again of hell.

Watching the few animals and people who had endured the blast dragging their soon-to-be-corpses across the ground, coughing up their own organs, flesh sloughing from the radiation poisoning.

Children, sobbing, their families missing or gone.

Small combatants in armor, struggling to be brave, drawing their blasters to fight when Satine approached, because  _ that  _ was all they knew.

Seven- and eight-year-olds, ready to die fighting for a clan that no longer existed, because Clan Kryze was the enemy.

Feeling the tears run down his cheeks, long since past caring if anyone saw, because of the sheer  _ suffering  _ of the few survivors. Looking to his master only to find Qui-Gon enduring the same silent weeping as he helped those who would let him.

And respected the wishes of those who hated him too much to let him help, backing away to let them die in agony and alone.

“I've  _ seen  _ what a society founded on hate does.” A tear escaped Satine's lashes, sliding down her cheek. “What happens when people solve their problems by violence. I  _ believe  _ in finding a better way. But there's this  _ hunger  _ inside me, Obi-Wan. And I'm  _ breaking.  _ I believed I could be who I choose to be, but I'm not sure that's true. I thought if I tried hard enough, I could be  _ decent.  _ I thought I could just  _ decide  _ to be better than I am.” She stared down at her hands, looking lost, desolation swirling around her in the Force. “I resented Anakin for being a monster, but Obi-Wan,  _ I  _ am one too. Perhaps worse. His inclination to kill at least comes from a need to survive. Mine is just...” Her breathing hitched in something almost a sob. “I'm— I just want to  _ kill something,  _ Obi-Wan—”

Obi-Wan reached out a hand to her, desperate to help.

She knelt by the bed, allowing his hand to cradle her head against the mattress, since he couldn't manage much more than that.

“ _ Why _ ?” she choked. “Why would I want something so terrible, something I hate  _ so much, why  _ do I want to  _ steal  _ life away from people?”

“You were conditioned from birth by your clan,” Obi-Wan whispered. “But think: Korkie  _ wasn't.  _ Korkie doesn't suffer with this. He is loved by his family, he can choose his destiny, he is free from this torment because you refused to let your conditioning define you.”

“What if I can't anymore? What happens if I succumb?”

“I don't know.” He closed his eyes against his own tears. “But it will not have made your legacy any less important. Every child Korkie's age and younger has been given a  _ choice.  _ A choice that you were not given. A choice thousands of generations of Mandalorian children have been denied.”

“Why is Yoda so kind to me, even as he's seeing me unravel?”

“Because you love us. Because you chose your dream of a better future for your people over your family's manipulation. Because you suffered for what you believed to be right. Because no matter how dark things got, you have always held on to hope. Because in the Force you're this light that  _ refuses  _ to go out. Because, after millennia of being prey, one predator chose to see us as people. Chose to break the cycle. We  _ feel  _ it, you know. We  _ know  _ what you have suffered for our sake. We  _ know  _ the terrorists use us against you, to slur your name. And after nine hundred years of seeing people be their worst, to see someone choose, against all odds, to be their  _ best... _ ”

“Stop,” she murmured.

“No. We don't have many friends, Satine. Most people just want to use us. Your only request was for Yoda to send you someone to teach you how to make peace.”

Satine shook her head. “I miss him too, you know. There are days when I miss Qui-Gon terribly. When my family disowned me, I ached  _ so much  _ for someone to just  _ be  _ there, and for a year, he was.”  
“I'm sorry for what I said, back on the ship,” Obi-Wan murmured, feeling terrible. “I was cruel.”

“We both were.”

He brushed his thumb against her cheek.

For a long moment neither spoke, simply overwhelmed by the final easing of the walls between them.

“It's alright to be a monster,” Obi-Wan whispered. “There is a difference between nature and behavior.”

She pulled back to peer into his face. “But  _ is  _ there really? How long can one suppress one's nature before it boils up and destroys everything you've worked to build?”

“There is darkness in everyone. The possibility of great harm. The ability to hurt other people to further ourselves.”

She gave a weak smile. “And those plagued with bloodlust? The war criminals, the serial killers, the assassins, the corrupt police officers?  _ Who  _ has this craving and  _ doesn't  _ end up soaking their hands in innocent blood?”

“I'm pinned down by a monster who defies the belief that a monster is automatically evil. Not all canines are the wolves who tear the nerfs limb from limb. Some of them are guardians, who protect the helpless herd. From themselves, and from those like them.”

“But a nerf akk uses its nature to guard. Its possessiveness. Its aggression.”

“Only you can decide what path you need to follow,” Obi-Wan whispered. “Whether you choose to find a way to sate your hunger with legal means, or if you choose to continue with total abstinence. But whichever way you choose, you have led your people  _ well  _ while you were in charge. It is worth being proud of. And if you choose another path in the future, it doesn't make where you have traversed  _ less  _ important.”

Her gaze fell away, a blush of shame touching her cheeks. “I never let you explain why you chose the war. Even though I know you hate killing almost as much as I do.”

“Fortunately, respect doesn't have to depend on agreement with another's viewpoint.”

“Negotiator,” she teased.

“If I were to listen to a dead man's ravings, what would you say?”  
“I would say you are welcome to come with me to Draboon for your sabbatical, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Can we leave Korkie with allies? Perhaps ask Padmé to be available should he need advice and support? Leave a comlink frequency for him just in case he absolutely needs to contact you?”

She smiled, the expression gentle. “Yes. I also have one request. Korkie trusts Ahsoka from Ahsoka's teaching stint in Sundari's academy. I would like for Ahsoka to be allowed to help him through the next several months of transition. She has a level head, an outside perspective, and it would be valuable hands-on political observation for her studies.”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at her. “Have you already spoken to Yoda about it?”

“Yes.”  
“Then why are you asking me?”  
“Because Anakin is asleep.”

Obi-Wan gave a nod. “I doubt he will say no, if Ahsoka agrees.”

The Force confirmed the rightness of it, Obi-Wan could almost see Qui-Gon smile—

And then everything fell to pieces with one thought.  _ Anakin won't be coming. _

“What is it?” Satine asked.

“I can't— I can't just go spend months in a wilderness. There's a war. And there's Anakin. And I can't—”

“Did Qui-Gon have answers to those protests? I imagine you managed to pull them out even when asleep.”

Obi-Wan's gaze fell away. “...Yes.”

“Ever since he died, you have not had a break. You've had to fight for them— for  _ all  _ of them— and you carry so much weight. If they are willing to carry it for themselves for a time, there is no shame in letting them.”

“I think I'm afraid.”  
“Because they are all incompetent, and anyone other than you cannot  _ possibly  _ get the job done right?”

He felt his face flush. “ _ No. _ Because it's all I've got. I just keep moving. And if I stand still too long, I have no idea what will catch up to me. I just know I can't let it.”

“So we both have demons hunting us down. You just haven't figured out what yours is yet. It's a terrible tactical decision to wait to face it until you're cornered.”

“Pick the field, pick the time, pick your allies, pick your weapons,” Obi-Wan sighed.

She smirked again. “What was that about  _ swift and decisive offense— _ ?”  
His gaze found her face because he needed to  _ see  _ her. Needed to feel the Force around her. Needed to breathe in how her hatred for him was gone.

_ You are so Mandalorian, love. Burning one moment, clear skies the next. _

It was time to find out what hunted him.

And he could think of no finer warrior to stand back-to-back with.

 

 


End file.
